Rain Check
by ninzzminigoth
Summary: Cicero gets an unexpected visit in the middle of the night. Rated M for sexual-implications-and-violent-foreplay.


**A/N: This is a very wierd one. Sorry if it angers anyone :3 Originally meant to be a SKMeme fill, but I read the prompt wrong and wrote a female instead of male. I couldn't bring myself to delete it so here it is. _Very graphic, if you don't like, leave now._ There isn't actually any sex in it, just suggestive and disturbing things. One bit I am proud of is the bit about 'A little worm struggling'. Anyway, enjoy!**

Illyne approached the form on the floor before her, which was curled in the foetal position. Gurgling noises came from it occasionally, to complement the blood that was liberally spread throughout the room.

"Cicero," She said, quietly.

"Oh, Listener! I've been waiting, waiting _waiting_ for you! How _very_ good to..." His words were interrupted by a fit of coughing, resulting in even more blood being spluttered out on the already covered floor. "See you," he finished finally, laughing.

"Cicero, there is only one cure for your madness. Me." Illyne had to do what she was told, however much she did not want to. It was the Night Mother's will. Although, she did enjoy seeing him writhe on the floor, bleeding like that... She would take advantage of it.

"Oh, do what you will, Listener. Hmm, Cicero has no fight left." He curled his hands closer to his body and clutched his abdomen. "In the end," he said as he looked up at Illyne, "Sithis will judge us both."

That was indeed true. Illyne crouched next to the whimpering jester to whisper in his ear.

"You're right, Cicero. But do you know what would be better still than Sithis' judgement?" She leaned closer and flicked her tongue out to lick some of the blood from Cicero's cheek. She lay down on her belly, facing Cicero with her feet in the air, wiggling them happily. She put her chin in her hands and leant on her elbows, smiling at the man before her. "Much more immediate, to boot," Illyne chuckled. Cicero looked at the Listener in a quizzical way, still clutching his abdomen.

"I'm going to let you live, Cicero. I am. But you will owe me for it. I will find you, at a time unknown to you, and then we can talk about your payment." Illyne smiled once more, and clicked her feet together in the air. "Well, you won't be doing much talking," She laughed and tipped her head to the side. With that, she stood and strode out of the room, leaving poor Cicero alone. He listened to Illyne's heavy footsteps as they echoed through the Sanctuary and out of earshot. He started to chuckle to himself after Illyne was gone - unsure of the strange new Listener's intentions, and he could feel the excitement bubble up inside.

Illyne was pleased. The new Sanctuary was coming along nicely, in the few weeks following the Penitus Oculatus' attack on the Falkreath Sanctuary, which was burned to a crisp along with most of the occupants. Fortunately, Babette, Nazir and herself had survived the onslaught and were now working on rebuilding the Dark Brotherhood. Delvin had done a wonderful job of obtaining decorations – to use the term loosely. And, to add to Illyne's delight, Cicero had returned. It was no longer a problem, as Astrid was dead. Illyne had been waiting for a while now to speak with him, and at this particular time it was late at night. He was most likely sleeping. '_Perfect..' _Illyne thought.

She crept through the hallways, careful not to wake Babette or Nazir on the way. She picked up a small leather bag on the path, and ever so gently opened the door to Cicero's bedroom – it creaked quietly. The sleeping jester turned on his side, sighing softly. "Mother..." he mumbled. "Soon..." He then turned and lay on his back. Illyne saw this as the perfect opportunity and stalked towards the bed. She was an excellent assassin, so naturally she could climb on the bed without disturbing its occupant. She positioned his body beside Cicero's, smiling expectantly. He did not wake as Illyne lowered herself to kneel at his side, much to her surprise and delight. She reached a hand out to place it on his soft belly, trailing it around his torso as she pleased. She then shuffled over and raised her left leg to swing it across Cicero's body, hoisting herself up to straddle him. Cicero jumped with a squeak at the sudden weight constricting him, and before he opened his eyes Illyne brought her mouth to Cicero's ear. His voice was filled with the thickness of sleep, but Illyne could hear the apprehension in it yet.

"Listener! What... What are you doing? Cicero did not expect this!" Illyne brought her hand up to Cicero's ear to brush the red hair out of the way and flicked her tongue out, taking the earlobe into her mouth and sucking on it. He moaned quietly, despite his confusion. She let it go with a small noise like a _pop_, and spoke.

"Remember your payment we talked about? Well, the time has come." Illyne looked into his hazel eyes, and saw his pupils contract to the size of pinheads. He started to laugh, softly.

"Oh Listener! Y-"

"Please, Cicero. Call me Illyne," she cooed, bringing a gloved hand to Cicero's face abruptly, causing a blade which was hidden inside her sleeve to appear mere inches from his face. Cicero's eyes gleamed at the sight of it.

"You may not enjoy this, Cicero – don't be so eager." He chuckled in response, wriggling his toes excitedly under the covers. Illyne climbed off of him, only to stand up and throw said covers off the bed, which landed in a crumpled heap in the corner of the room. She crawled up onto the bed once more on all fours, and positioned herself above the now totally exposed madman. Illyne raised her eyebrows. "You sleep naked, Cicero?"

"Mmmmmyes!" came the exuberant response.

She brought her face level with Cicero's and reached her hand down, and squeezed hard. Cicero yelped, and Illyne laughed. She skimmed her nose down Cicero's torso before him until she caught sight of the healing wound just above Cicero's belly button, and dragged her tongue along it. Cicero could feel the pain emanating from his stomach caused by pressure, but it was overshadowed with something else altogether more enjoyable. That sick pleasure he derived from pain, again. He had no idea what to expect – was the Listener going to make love to him, was she going to hurt him? He had no idea. And that excited him all the more.

"I am going to make you _squirm, _madman," Illyne cooed, the knife dancing across Cicero's pale skin.

"L-like a little worm wriggling and struggling to meet the rain?"

Illyne sighed indulgently. "Yes, like a worm."

She placed the tip of the blade on his chest, then dragged it downwards, pressing deeper as she went. Cicero let out a wanton moan, and Illyne silenced him immediately by pressing a still gloved hand to his mouth.

"Quiet," she demanded. She removed the hand from his mouth and set to taking the glove off, loosening each finger before pulling it off with her teeth. She then traced patterns, dipping her index finger in the blood that was coming from the new wound, and drawing swirls with it on his belly.

"You're sick, you know that?" She asked almost conversationally, still making patterns.

Cicero had his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. But then it stopped all of a sudden. He opened them to see why, and found Illyne's face inches from his own.

"Say it." Yet more laughter threatened to bubble over, the excitement almost too much to bear, and Cicero bit his lip.

"_Say it,_" she demanded, louder this time.

"Cicero is- Cicero is..."

"What?"

"S-Sick." That was it, he couldn't hold it in any longer. The laughter burst out of his mouth, like a little wolf breathing its first breath, the air bursting out.

"Siiiick," he laughed, struggling to breathe himself.

Illyne smiled. "Yes, little worm is sick, and _I _am the cure."


End file.
